Before the Dawn
by Marchioly
Summary: Two brothers on opposing sides, both with the power and vision to change the world. Only time will tell who will succeed. Updates at least once daily.
1. Introduction

**A.N. This is my first story. These first few chapters will be predominantly background information. As a result, the writing style will be very brief. I will possibly expand upon these early chapters later on with more details. However, for the time being they serve as a timeline and a means of showing the character development.**

**I realize that there is a coincidence between the name Crownguard and the last name of Lux and Garen from League of Legends. This was unintended. The name actually was inspired from the historical tradition of surnames denoting occupation. Also, I didn't want to do something too DnD-esq like 'BladeWeaver' or cliché like 'BraveHeart.'**

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The Crownguards, a soldier family that had been tasked with overseeing the protection of the Crown of Stormwind since the early days of the city. They were the nobles in every sense of the word except one, they didn't actually bear the title.

They possessed the love and adoration of the common people, without exploiting it for political aspirations.

They lived their lives in service to the crown and by extension the common people.

They had seen the city flourish from its humble beginnings as a tribal town into the proud bastion of humanity. The success was testament to the resourcefulness and ingenuity of the population.

They possessed a pride and patriotism that was unrivaled and could trace their lineage back to the cities inception.

Despite all this, they cared little for the comforts of life. They sought a simpler goal, with the aspirations being merely home and hearth.

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For the past four centuries, it had been tradition for the eldest son to continue on the family occupation. Traditionally, this was not a problem since the occupational risks coupled with the less that fertile line meant that children were a rarity. As a result, sibling rivalry was not expected, that is, until the time of Malak Crownguard.

Known for his quick mind, brilliant strategy, and personal charisma, Malak was touted as the greatest military commander of the century. The rapport that he held with his men was the topic of legends. Whether dealing with hostility from gnome and the other dangerous denizens of the land, or the intricacies of the political scene Malak was not an individual to be underestimated.

Although he had deviated from the ancestral policy of abstaining from politics, he did not lose the morals of his ancestors. Whether he used the political clout to crush coalitions or placate the dissident, he was always calm and collected.

It can be said that those who are most willing and eager to change and improve the world are the one's who are affected the most when it all goes up in flames. Malak faced and earned a new reputation during the first war.

Upon learning of the voracity of the orcish invaders, he became ruthless and strict. Upon seeing that no quarter was given to women and children, he gave no quarter. He accepted no surrender and expected none. It is ironic that the Crownguards would witness both the rise and fall of their beloved city.

Malak could see that everything everything that he knew and loved was going to change. However, the topic of his military prowess in the first war can be told another time. The topic closer at hand is that of the parting gift that he left his wife before leaving to war. Little did he know that the results of his gift would be a pair of brothers.

The eldest, by a few minutes, was Milo. He was the larger of the two, and possessed a full head of brown hair and a darkened tanned skin complexion. He appeared the spitting image of his father, who was imfamous for his curly brown locks and weatherbeaten complexion.

The second born of the pair was Alain. He was the runt of the litter, smaller and slighter of frame than his brother. Additionally, rather than possessing his father's characteristic appearance, he was pale skinned and on his head was a sparse tuff of hair. This hair was thin, and so pale that it seemed to shine in the sun.

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This is the tale of these two brothers and how their actions would shake the very foundations of their world.


	2. Prologue 1

**AN. To deal with the timing aspect, all times will be given as A.S. (After stormwind). This represents when the children are each two years old.**

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**Two A.S. **

In the war against the orcs, humanity was able to reach a stalemate with neither side the obvious victor. The fall of Stormwind affected many, but few as significantly as Malak.

With the fall of the city, all that he knew ceased to exist. His pride was the first to go. Not only had he failed to achieve victory, but also he desecrated the memory of his ancestors. His charisma went next, replaced by bitterness and cynicism.

Following the war, he was faced with the daunting task of reconnecting with his wife and two young children. He had missed their births, first steps, and first words. Reconnecting with his wife was fine, he was able to provide stability and protection from those who might take advantage of the young woman.

However, in regards to his sons, he was lost. His only example of parental behavior was his own father. He was unable to use this example because they had bonded over stories of their proud history. As a youth he was regaled with tales of bravery, romance, and cunning. However following the fall, this was no longer an option.

Ultimately, he became a shell of his former self turning to the bottle for comfort.

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**Five A.S.**

The sun had just started to peak over the surrounding terrain. Bathing the landscape in the multitude of colors that characterize dawn. The landscape was forested and the sun refracted off the morning dew like a million prisms. Much had changed in the past three years. Gone was the horrid living conditions in the humble refugee camps.

The family had moved to a cozy little house outside a village in the foothills outside the forests of Gilneas. The peace and the tranquility of the morning was broken by a loud crack. These cracks were the sounds of wood on wood.

The years had not been kind to Malak. His previously meticulously groomed appearance had become rugged and grizzled. The scars across his body were openly visible. Most notable was a scar across his forehead in a straight line. If he had been half a centimeter closer to the dealer, he would have perished.

Under the supervision of their father, Malak, Milo and Alain were engaged in a battle with wooden rudiora. These wooden blades looked comically large on the pair of children.

Alain had just finished parrying a complex series of attacks by his brother. Milo's onslaught had resulted in him overextending. Faced with the opportunity to counterattack, Alain quickly noticed that Milo's assault had resulted in him bringing his right food forward.

With a quick step forward, Alain was able to use his shorter stature and slighter build to step inside his brother's guard and deliver a quick tap to the inside of his brother's thigh. He then took a step back and grinned at his brother, who responded in turn.

The verbal silence of the morning, was shattered as the grizzled older man barked, "Enough!"

Both of the boys turned to their father, with their heads lowered in silence.

"Milo, do you know why you lost?"

Milo's response was to state: "Because I made a mistake, Father."

His father's response was slow as he slowly went through the different motions of the currently taught stance, "No, you lost because you were overconfident."

Malak briefly paused as he executed a series of thrusts and parries. He stopped before continuing. "You were merely executing the attacks. You were using them correctly, but you failed to use them here." With that he pointed at his brain.

"The brain is the greatest weapon. You can find an opponents weakness and the means to exploit it."

He began pacing in front of the duo.

"This is what separates the good soldier from the great."

The two siblings had different expressions on their faces. Milo looked properly chastened while Alain looked exuberant.

Turning on his heel to head to the house, Malak left the pair with a parting message.

"Milo, no breakfast today. Use the time to think about what I have said."

He took a few more steps. "Oh. And Alain, wipe that stupid smirk off your face."


	3. Prologue 2

**A.N. We are still dealing with the background information. During this time, there will be large gaps in the dates. Later on, this will slow down considerably. This is because I do not particularly care to write about the childhood neglection. However, this seems important to cover because it shows where both Alain and Milo come from. These time jumps will slow down around 8 A.S, or when the boys are 10 years old.**

**I do not know anything about the geography of Gilneas, so the village will just be called such. It does not really matter in the grand scheme of things. I realize that politically Gilneas might be an odd choice of a home, because they failed to aid Stormwind in the war. However, Malak chose the area because it's military was not decimated by the war, which meant greater security for when the orcs would re-engage hostilities.**  
**Additionally, I like Genn Greymane as a character. If my knowledge of the timeline is correct, he would be roughly 8 years or so older than Milo/Alain.**

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** 6 A.S.**

Malak had been grooming his children to continue on his legacy and rebuild the name of the Crownguards. That being said, he was not an attentive father. He remained distant, rarely pleased. He treated his two children more as green recruits than as his own flesh and blood. In order to inspire Milo and Alain, he often would reward the one and punish the other. This resulted in little love being lost between the siblings despite their close age.

His manner was perceptibly improved since the birth of his daughter two years previously. Through Mia he was able to witness the developments that he had missed with the other children.

There was one change though, he had a two year old daughter named Mia. She possessed a devilish cunning beyond her years. For example, she knew what she wanted and how to get it. The blatent parental favoritism did little to phase her older siblings who both were as doting as the parents.

The years had done nothing to improve Alain's pale countenance. In all reality, they probably had accomplished the inverse. Already at the young age of 8, his hair had lightened considerably going from the pale blonde to an almost stark white. His build was slight and his movements graceful. This combination could either be classified as the movement of an aristocrat bred for the spotlight, or an assassin bred for the hunt.

Both of these options could be considered correct.

Just as Alain was being prepared for the political battlefield, Milo was being prepared for the physical battlefield. His days were spent discussion military strategy and the aspects of command. Two of Milo's close friends were Philippe and Jacques. Both boys were large and lumbering, crass and cross. On top of their two mountainously large frames were two heads that both resembled moss covered boulders. In each of these heads was a pair of eyes that did not bespeak intelligence. The eyes were glassy and dull. They were both born to follow, never to lead.

Their low intelligence and cruel nature meant that both of these boys became companions of Milo, who they would follow like obedient puppies. Although, they would laugh at his jokes, little could be said about their laughs. Their voices had not yet deepened to the low rumbles of maturity, rather the sound was high pitched scratchy sound like a cross between gravel on a washboard and the screech of a cat.

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**Cruel Intentions**

"Give it back now!" a loud voice could be heard yelling in middle of town. The individual, Elaina, was a young, slightly pudgy brunette girl covered in freckles. The target of her tirade was none other than Milo.

In search of a source of amusement, he had stolen her corn husk doll and was using it to openly mock the girl.

He made the doll dance and move in rough jittery motions that were a mockery of actual movement. He supplemented these motions with him saying.

"Hi, my name is Elaina. I have no friends, which is why I play with this dead plant." Truth being said, he lacked any aptitude as a puppeteer which only enhanced the cruelty of his actions.

Following the auditory cacophony of Philippe and Jacques's laughter, the girl began to sob uncontrollably. Despite Milo's mockery and jest, he could not have been more true. Elaina was always the outcast and loner, she avoided interacting with others because she was exceedingly self conscious. She dreaded being under the scrutiny of others.

As he noticed the girl that was the target of his brother's ministrations, Alain could not refrain from going to her aid. He rushed to the courtyard to confront his brother and provide aid.

His voice rang through over the sound of the young girl's sobs. "Milo, stop!"

As Milo turned to the confront his brother, Alain could not help but sigh. He and his brother both operated under an unspoken truce that they would both turn a blind eye to each other. Although they despised one another, they also knew that they had to live with one another for the foreseeable future.

As the brother's stared each other down, the girl stopped crying to look at her savior. She was awed by the way the mid-morning sun reflected off his hair, he was a picture of nobility with the way his chin was slightly raised as he gazed coldly upon the perpetrators.

Under the force of his gaze both of Milo's accomplices visibly flinched. The harshness of his gaze seemed to be almost wounding.

The silence in the air was palpable, only broken by the sound of breathing. At least it was until Alain spoke, knowing that things between he and his brother could never be the same.

"I would hate for _Father_ to hear about what you are doing. I can only imagine what he would say if he learned what his heir was doing."

Milo visibly paled. Any truce that he and his brother may have had just became null and void. They both knew that their father possessed a temper that was unrivaled.

Before turning and tactfully leaving, his eyes bespoke a message to Alain. The message was simple and was merely "Watch your back, because I will be watching mine now."

With a huff, Milo took the doll and threw it on the ground before leaving.

From her hunched spot on the ground, Elaina looked up at him her savior, her eyes were still slightly puffy from crying and her nose was still wet. Regardless, her expression of gratitude was accompanied by an unwelcome snort.

With his task completed, Milo turned and left, fully aware of Elaina's gaze on his back the entire time he walked away.

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**The Village**

Alain walked the hobbled roads of the village in pursuit of a cool, quiet nook to avoid the blisteringly hot midday. Alain was always a very heat sensitive youth. Perhaps it was his pale complexion, but he had always felt at greater ease during the winter months.

He quickly ran through a mental checklist. _Well, the baker's cellar would be an option. He does most of his business in the morning and evening. However, I really do not want to draw his attention. His daughter, Elaina, is still operating under the illusion that I am her knight in shining armor._

_The Bookstore might be an option, if it weren't for the multitude of women that accumulate and gossip during the day._

_The only real choice is the church, it has become somewhat dilapidated from age and lack of use... Yes, there I can find some peace and solitude._

So with that in mind, he set out for the church on the edge of town.

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**A.N. When Milo threw Elaina's doll on the ground, all I could think of was the song by lonely island. **

**This was the first chapter of the day, I will be posting a few more later. I would love reviews, feedback, and comments. I realize that I need to ****eventually work on incorporating more than just the 3rd person into my writing style.**

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**In the next chapter:**

**Will Alain and Elaina become friends? ****Does Alain rat out Milo to his father? Does Milo succeed getting revenge? Find out next time!**


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